


Prologue

by shallowlives



Series: He Said, “Why Don’t You Just Drop Dead?” [6]
Category: A Little Less Sixteen Candles a Little More "Touch Me" - Fall Out Boy (Song), Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - 2000s, Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Prohibition, Vampire Adam Siska, Vampire Brendon Urie, Vampire Michael Guy Chislett, Vampire Mike Carden, Vampire Pete Wentz, Vampire Ryan Ross, Vampire Turning, Vampire William Beckett, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallowlives/pseuds/shallowlives
Summary: A prologue to the He Said, "Why Don't You Just Drop Dead?" series. Precedes the A Little Less 16 Candles music video.Chicago, 1926: William Beckett is a gay university student who discovers the gang he joins, the Dandies, has a much darker secret than distributing alcohol.Las Vegas, 2004: Brendon, Ryan, Spencer, and Jon are directionless high school graduates whose band isn't taking off when they're invited to a party held by a charismatic college student named William Beckett. However, Ryan has his suspicions about William.Chicago, 2016: Pete Wentz finds his entire life altered after escaping the man who turned him into a vampire, William Beckett.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz, Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, William Beckett/Adam Siska, William Beckett/Brendon Urie, William Beckett/Pete Wentz, William Beckett/Ryan Ross
Series: He Said, “Why Don’t You Just Drop Dead?” [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/921333
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chicago, 1926

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the prologue to the series!! I'm so excited to be finally posting this. This could be read on its own without reading the series that goes with it or before reading the series I guess, there's some spoilers but nothing huge I think. The prologue focuses on how William, Brendon and the rest of P!ATD, and Pete got into this vampire shit and I don't think I'll be doing backstories for any other characters in the series, but I'll certainly update if I change my mind. Enjoy!

**William Beckett**

_Shaken and faint, you've got the feeling  
you've been followed under your skin.  
It will be weighing on your shoulder.  
You've got that seed in you. _

_-Seed by The Academy Is_

**Chicago, 1926**

William Beckett was an ordinary student at the University of Chicago, who hid his homosexuality well enough from his mother, a former activist for temperance, and his father, a veteran of the Great War. They were an average upper middle-class family that lived in a Sears catalogue house newly built in the suburbs and attended church every Sunday, scorning alcohol and the city’s gang violence. William had no other hobbies besides locking himself away in his room, studying French and admiring male silent movie stars in magazines, and that was all well and fine.

And then he met Adam Siska.

It began when the boy William sat next to in his French class was searching through his leather school bag for a pen, when a silver lipstick container fell out and rolled right next to William’s feet. Nobody else noticed since they were far too busy with their own conversations, but William of course did.

The boy, about a year younger and wearing a letterman jacket with slicked back hair, quickly snatched the little silver tube and shoved it back into his bag.

“It must be my sister’s.” He tried to explain, but William could tell by the way he trembled and looked upon him in desperation that it wasn’t the truth.

Even though he was always the quiet and studious sort, William sometimes had a rare semblance of confidence that now made him lean in closer, and whisper, “So, you’re not a faggot like me?”

Although nothing sparked between them, they did have a hushed conversation after class where William was able to find out the location of a speakeasy where he would find others in a similar situation.

William had told his parents he was going out to visit a school friend and study, although in reality he was standing at the door of a decrepit warehouse by the harbor. The night had just fallen from dusky twilight to a darkness dotted with stars, and the only sounds were from the far-off waves lapping against the shore and boats. It was hard to believe that the speakeasy was supposed to be here. However, if he held his ear to the door, William could faintly hear a record playing and low chatter and detect the scent of tobacco seeping through the door.

He knocked on the door. From inside, came a voice, asking, “Password?”

William fumbled for the crumpled sliver of paper in his pocket and unfolded it. “Um… Sisky business?”

The door creaked open cautiously and the man guarding the door took one look up and down at him. William just naturally looked very gay, so the man nodded his head and let him into the warehouse.

William timidly walked through the doorway, and found himself in a large room of around thirty or so others. They were sitting at the bar or at tables dotted around, drinking the illicit beverages that William had never allowed himself to even think of touching. He took a seat at the bar.

After the bartender finished making someone’s else’s drink, he noticed William at the bar.

“What’d you like to order?” He asked, leaning on the bar and surveying the new guest.

“Oh, um, I’m still deciding.” William told him. In truth, he had no idea what to possibly order and all the types of alcohol he thought he knew disappeared from his memory.

The bartender shrugged, and was about to move onto the next customer when a voice spoke up from behind William.

“Get him some wine, on me.”

The bartender obediently nodded and said, “Right away, boss.” as he began pouring the drink.

William turned his head to see a man about his age sitting down next to him. He had a pale, angular face, and curly, untamed blonde hair that fell below his jaw. He was only a little less leaner in figure than William, but there was something strange about the man that intimidated him and seemingly the rest of the customers, who were glancing over nervously and whispering.

“Thank you.” William managed to choke out. “For the drink.”

“It’s no problem, dear.” The man smiled. “I haven’t seen you around this place before. I’m Adam Siska, and you?”

The name seemed to ring a bell in William’s head, although he couldn’t recall why. “I’m William. William Beckett.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, William. You can call me Sisky.”

He reached out, taking William’s hand and kissing his hand just above his boney knuckles. William’s cheeks flustered and no words could come out of his mouth. His heart was pounding at a million miles a minute, racing like a speeding train on greased tracks.

A glass filled with wine was placed in front of William. He wrapped his fingers delicately around the ornate glass stem, and held it up momentarily, inspecting it.

“Don’t tell me this is your first time drinking!” Sisky chuckled.

“It isn’t!” William quickly denied, and took a large sip of the wine. He could barely keep his face from souring as he tasted the bitterness grow in the back of his throat and warm his stomach for the first time in his life.

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Sisky said, raising his eyebrows at him.

“My mother led some temperance group.” William desperately wanted a drink of water, but Sisky was _hot,_ and he didn’t want to seem weak in front of him. “I haven’t had many chances to drink.”

“Ah, I see.” Sisky nodded in understanding. “So, what’s a boy with such a conservative upbringing doing… _here?_ ”

“Precisely the reason why everyone else is here.” William smirked. He attempted to take another drink of his wine, but alcohol was still unfamiliar in his mouth and ruined any flirtatious facade he had.

Luckily, Sisky didn’t seem to mind his reaction to the wine and placed his hand on William’s knee. He opened his mouth, starting to say something, when there was a sudden bang! from a door being broken down. Yells of alarm arose from the crowd as police swarmed the speakeasy.

“Shit!” Sisky cursed, looking back at the commotion and then quickly again at William. In the moment, he made the decision to grab William’s hand and pull him away with him as he fled toward the back of the warehouse. The wine glass fell over the bar and shattered to the floor. William, panicked, tried to keep up with Sisky’s remarkably fast speed, but ended up mostly being dragged behind him.

However, when they were close to reaching a back door, police broke down that door to enter as well. Sisky stopped and called out, “Carden, where the _fuck_ are you?” while taking out a handgun and aiming it at the policemen. When Sisky pulled the trigger, the sudden crack of bullets through the air startled William, making him clutch Sisky’s hand tighter while he watched the police officers drop to the ground in a pool of blood.

Mike Carden, a fellow with thick and long brown hair who was dressed similarly in fashion to Sisky, came running up. “I was loading my gun!”

“It should have already been loaded!” Sisky scolded him. Whatever they were arguing about, the words didn’t reach William’s ears as he stared down at the dead police officers before he was yet again being dragged along by Sisky. William blindly stumbled along with him into the cold night air, and he was led to a car parked at the side of the building. Carden got in the driver’s seat and started the car, and they sped away as soon as Sisky climbed into the backseat and pulled William in.

“Where are we going?” William finally asked, voice timid.

“Who’s that guy?” Carden interrupted before Sisky could answer. “You gonna turn him, Sisky?”

“Turn?”

“No. His name is William Beckett. He’s just a nice man I happened to be talking to.”

“ _Talking._ ” Carden sneered. “We all know how that always ends.”

“Shut up, you’re just gonna scare him more than he already is. Anyways, we’re just going to my place. Once we know it’s safe, I’ll drop you off at home.”

William didn’t reply. As the car rattled, he stared out the window as they drove away from the pier. Whether he liked it or not, he unknowingly was now tied to the Dandies, a gang who had a much more nefarious secret than distributing illicit liquor.

“This is it.” Sisky said, leading William and the rest of his Dandies into the living room of the suburban mansion they had pulled up at.

A radio and record player sat at the side of the fireplace, of which the mantel had a few decorative plants and old framed pictures with a mirror sitting above. The windows stretching to the ceiling were decked in thick, billowing curtains made of a silky navy material and the walls were covered in an ornate gold-patterned wallpaper. Above the couch hung high a glittering chandelier. Through a doorway, William could see a library with cluttered bookshelves stretching to the ceiling.

“I’ll drive you home in an hour.” Sisky told William, relaxing onto the couch. “For now, we can rest. Would you like something to drink?”

William, stunned at the splendor of the room, took a second to respond as his eyes were still absorbing the sight. “If it isn’t too much of a bother, I’d like water…”

Sisky snapped his fingers. “Carden, get him water.”

“Aw, come _on,_ we were just—”

“Don’t whine in front of our guest.” Sisky scolded. “Get water for our dear William. He must be parched after all he’s been through, aren’t you?”

The way Sisky turned to look at him with expectation, William didn’t think he had much of a choice. “I… I guess.”

Carden sighed, “Damn, just hurry up and _turn_ him already.” with a roll of his eyes and walked away.

William was quiet for a moment before approaching the question he’d been wondering, “What does he mean by... ‘turn’?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Take a seat.”

However, William was already busy admiring the photographs on the fireplace mantel. “How old are these?”

“They weren’t taken that long ago.” Sisky said vaguely. “You’re not really interested in those. Come, have a seat.”

“Is that you?” William asked, pointing to a photo of Sisky. His hair was shorter and his curls cut and smoothed down, wearing a suit and sitting in a stiff position while he stared straight ahead. “Is that you as a teenager or something? You look like some sort of Victorian.”

“It’s not recent.” Sisky answered. “Come on, take a seat.”

“Is that your wedding photo?” William asked, looking at another. “Her dress is _ancient._ I swear my mother probably wore something like that in her photographs. The sleeves are all... poofy. How long ago was this?”

“Long enough ago.” Sisky quickly changed the topic. “So, what do you do for a living? Seems like everyone’s in stocks these days.”

“I’m a university student. Studying French.” William’s attention wasn’t deterred from the photographs. “Pardon me for asking, but how old _are_ you? You must be older than me, but you really seem quite young.”

“He’s quite stubborn about that.” Carden returned with the water, handing it to William. He began to place the picture frames face-down. “You’d do best to ask less questions.”

“I don’t have any problems with the question.” Sisky said. “Sit down, William, and I’ll tell you.”

“What was the last age you said you were?” Carden said, flipping down the last photo and turning around to lean against the fireplace. “You said you were 27 yesterday, didn’t you? And it was 25 last week.”

“That’s quite enough, Carden. You may leave.” Sisky said. Carden left promptly, finished with his due antagonizing for the night. William took a seat right next to Sisky, where he had motioned for him to sit. “Lying is quite common in our profession, bootlegging and all that. I’m sure you understand. I’m really not old. Or do you _really_ believe the rumors about us?”

“Rumors?” William was intrigued. “What rumors?”

“Oh, there’s only a few rumors about the Dandies. Nothing to be concerned about.” Sisky shrugged it off. He moved himself to the side, closer to William, and said, “So, I have a business proposition for you. As a student, you must not have very much money, right?”

William froze, mid-sip of his water. “What do you mean?”

“Would you like to help me and the Dandies out?” He asked. “I would compensate you for your time, of course. It would be more than enough to pay for your studies, I’m sure. You could earn eighty dollars a week.”

“ _Eighty?!_ ” William demanded, sitting up straighter. He was shocked. In 1926, eighty dollars was more than a considerable amount. He would be stupid to refuse. “Eighty a week?!”

“I’m sure you have heard how dangerous of a business it is.” Sisky leaned in close to his ear and then whispered, “But it’s all worth the risk. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. The cops are all talk. They can’t do shit, especially to _us._ ”

“What sort of stuff would I be doing?”

“Just transporting alcohol with us. Do you know how to drive?” William nodded. “Good. And it’s all during the night, you won’t have to miss any classes for it…” Sisky tucked a strand of William’s hair behind his ear. “—sweetheart.”

William averted his eyes, considering the offer. On one hand, it was extremely dangerous to be involved in a gang, especially one such as the Dandies. William could be arrested or killed, and if his parents found out, they wouldn’t be too pleased either. On the other hand, Sisky _was_ cuter than William wanted to admit and it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he couldn’t simply pass up. He would gain action, wealth, and most importantly, alcohol. As well as Sisky, of course.

“You have yourself a deal.”

“You were out late last night.” William’s mother accused, slamming the plate of eggs in front of him as soon as he sat down at the table.

“We got really into studying.”

“I still think that degree’s bullshit.” His father said with a pipe balanced in the crook of his mouth, glancing up from his newspaper. “What’re you gonna be when you graduate?”

“I’ll move to France and get a job there.”

“You don’t know France until you’ve been in a trench for three months, stepping knee-deep in bloody water and surrounded by—”

“That’s enough, darling. You know plenty well they’ve recovered since the war.”

“Well, I haven’t.” William’s father grumbled, turning the page of his newspaper. “I’ve still got shell shock, haven’t I?”

William ate his eggs in silence. His mother said something about how his father just needed to pay more attention in church. His father ignored it and remarked no son of his would live in France. William’s younger sister, Courtney, didn’t come down for breakfast. It was a usual Saturday for the Beckett household, except that William had business that night.

Once his parents finally quieted, William mentioned just what he had been practicing over and over in his imagination, “I got a job, by the way. At a record store.”

“And it won’t interfere with your studies, darling?” His mother asked.

“No. It’s all nights I work. I have plenty of free time.”

“Night?” His father made a disapproving tsk. “You know it’s not safe around here at night with all the gangs and murders. You’d best be careful, son.”

“The trouble is all downtown, sweetheart. I’m sure William will be perfectly safe.”

“My first shift is tonight, by the way.”

“A _Saturday_ night?” His mother sighed heavily. “William, dear, you know we have church tomorrow.”

“I won’t be out late.” William swore to her. It was a lie, obviously.

Sisky met him in his car that he parked down the block.

“Tonight I’ll be just showing you the ropes.” Sisky said after William had gotten into the car. “I’ve only got a few boxes to drop off. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sounds good.”

The deliveries were quicker than expected and it was only a matter of time before they had finished. William, under Sisky’s instruction, had been quiet most of the time while he had observed transactions of fat stacks of cash being handed over. Now that their last delivery had finished without a hitch and they were getting back in the car, William only expected to be taken home early, but Sisky had other ideas.

“Let’s see a picture.”

“At this time at night?”

“Why not?” Sisky asked, flashing him a grin. “Let’s see what’s playing.”

They ended up seeing the next showing of _The Scarlet Letter,_ starring the gorgeous Lillian Gish and based on some book William remembered once reading in a literature class. The theater was dark and surprisingly not populated for what would usually be a busy night, giving them a sense of privacy. However, the presence of ushers standing in the back of the theater scared William from making any moves, along with the fact he had indeed witnessed Sisky _kill_ someone the previous night. The movie was quite sombering, anyway, being it was about the exile of a young woman from Puritan society for adultery.

After the movie, they walked in silence to where the car had been parked until Sisky stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one out to William, who accepted it.

“What did you think of the picture?” Sisky asked, pulling his lighter out of his pocket. He lit William’s first, then his own while he had the cigarette balanced between his teeth.

“Sad, really. C’est dommage.” William lifted the cigarette to his lips and sucked in a breath of smoke.

“I think I feel like Hester, sometimes.” Sisky blew out a puff of smoke. “Like everyone’s judging me for my sin, you know?”

“Being a homosexual?”

“Among other things.” Sisky shrugged. “Do you ever feel like that sometimes?”

“All the damn time.” William lifted his cigarette to his lips again. He was sure he’d start feeling guilty for his sexual preferences and newfound habit of drinking as soon as his mother dragged him to church the next morning.

“But... it’s like they’re judging me for something that I _can’t_ control. As if it was my fault it happened.”

William assumed he was talking about being a homosexual. “How did it happen?”

While letting out a breath of smoke, Sisky mumbled, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

A warm blush crept onto William’s cheeks. “What does that mean?”

Sisky saw the confused expression on timid William’s face and chuckled. “Christ, I’m not talking about becoming a _homosexual._ This is something completely different.”

“Oh.” William looked away and took another drag. “What do you mean, then?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you yet.”

“Is it… _bad?_ ”

“To most people.” Sisky said. “If they believe in it.”

William managed to survive a few weeks of being trained by the Dandies in bootlegging. He learned how to shoot a gun, how to throw a punch, and how to negotiate. Disappointingly, there had been no advances on either of his or Sisky’s part so far.

He’d been brought on a delivery with Chizzy, the Australian one of the Dandies, since Sisky, Carden, and Butcher were busy with setting up the Dandies’ newest speakeasy. However, whoever they were delivering the alcohol to owed a considerable debt, which had made Sisky tentative to let William tag along.

“I just won’t let him see anything if they refuse to pay.” Chizzy had promised. The conversation was audible to William, who was a room over from where they were talking and not-so-accidentally eavesdropping. “You know I’ll be careful.”

“You better be.” There had been a pause, probably for an exhale of smoke. “I don’t want you scaring him off.”

“Why? You’re taking your sweet time to tell him.”

“There’s… oh, how do I say it?” There was another pause for smoke. “I see something in him. He’s got that seed in him. He could be something really great, if we’re careful.”

Chizzy had snickered. “ _Him?_ He’s a mouse.”

“Only for now. I’ve got ideas; I just need a few more days.”

William was still none the wiser and had absolutely no fucking clue what they could have been going on about, but that was what he was trying to figure out instead of paying attention while Chizzy argued with this certain speakeasy owner about the debt in a storage room.

“William, close your eyes.”

William was snapped out of his thoughts. His most recent idea, that they secretly could be communists, dissipated quickly. “Huh?”

“Close your eyes!” Chizzy ordered with more urgency, grabbing the speakeasy owner’s throat before he could reach for his gun.

William closed his eyes. This was rare; usually, he was told to walk out of the room. He never could understand why; he could shoot a gun just fine, although sometimes from the absence of the crack of gunshots, it didn’t even seem like the Dandies _needed_ them.

Curiosity got the best of young William. He opened his eyes to see a sight he would vividly remember forever: the speakeasy owner shaking with screams while Chizzy’s teeth--no, _fangs--_ tore into his neck. Drops of blood hot as melted wax splashed onto William’s face as Chizzy’s fangs skidded across the flesh of the poor owner’s neck. Chizzy greedily gulped it down as if it was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day, moaning at the taste. The man’s struggling weakened and as life was drained from him, he lost his footing on the floor. Chizzy leaned over him to compensate for his slumped posture. His screams died out and his glassy eyes squinted at the ceiling light before the tension in his eyelids was lost.

Chizzy took a few last swallows with a sucking sound that sent chills down William’s spine, and then he dropped the debtor’s body. He turned back around, licking the blood from his lips when he saw William’s hypnotized eyes and realized he’d seen the entire thing.

“You saw _nothing._ ” Chizzy said.

However, William broke out of his paralyzed state and was not willing to obey. Instead he began screaming and tried to reach for his gun at his side, but Chizzy quickly slapped away his hand before he could and covered his mouth, pushing William up against a shelf that rattled at the impact.

“Stop screaming!” He told him. It was no use, seeing as William kept trying to scream against his hand. “Christ, this is just the bee’s knees. I said, _stop!_ ” He yanked Wlliam forward and pushed him into the shelf again, of which the surprise made him finally shut up. “Listen, Bilvy, we’re gonna head to where Sisky’s setting up the new speakeasy and you’ll be just _fine,_ and you can ask him all the questions you like. Just stay fucking quiet, okay?”

William fearfully nodded.

“Good.” He cautiously removed his hand from William’s mouth, testing the waters, and William stayed silent. It was clear he’d been haunted by the sight; in Chizzy’s grasp, his hand was trembling. William’s heart was racing, blood pounding in his ears. “I’m gonna take your gun now just in case, okay?”

With no trouble, Chizzy slid the gun out of William’s hidden holster and put it into his own. William didn’t try to stop him; the most of a fight he put up was his trembling.

“You’re telling me he _saw?!_ ” Sisky roared. He took a confrontational step toward Chizzy, who backed up.

“It’s not my fault!”

“It is your own fault because you can’t damn well hold yourself back! I swear I told you to shoot the guy, not feed from him! I told you I had a plan and now you’ve gone and stolen William’s innocence!” He turned around and sat on a barstool. “Chizzy, you may leave. Bilvy, come here.”

Chizzy skulked out of the room. William hesitated before he uneasily began to walk toward Sisky from the corner he had been observing from, his head bowed in fearful deference toward the floor. He couldn’t bear to look at Sisky with the same eyes he had before.

“Take a seat.”

William sat down at the barstool opposite him.

“You want a drink?”

William shook his head.

“You can talk, you know. I don’t _bite._ ” Sisky lightheartedly chuckled.

For a few moments more, William was silent until he asked, “What the _hell_ are you?”

“I’m going to tell you a story.” Sisky said. “And no interrupting with questions until the end, got it?”

William nodded.

“There was once a young American boy drafted into the war to end all wars.” He began, grabbing a bottle and glass after reaching behind the bar. He started to pour the alcohol. “Some weak, scrawny kid in his mid-20s, living with some frumpy girl in a loveless marriage. He was excited. Everyone was romanticizing the war. He thought he would become some sort of war hero, as did everyone those days. Do you think that happened?”

William knew the outcome of most of the unfortunate soldiers of the Great War from the rare times his father could muster enough sanity to talk about it in a way that wasn’t a nervous retelling of the memories he thought he was reliving again every time he heard a firework outside. He solemnly shook his head in response.

“Of course it didn’t.” Sisky took a sip of alcohol, voice riddled with tension. “All of us were just kids, used as cheap pawns just because a few rich people got mad about some Austro-Hungarian archduke being killed. I was sent into barbed wire, hails of bullets, muddy trenches. It was the mustard gas that finally did it. I thought that was finally it was all over and done, I was finally out of the waiting room of war, and I was so glad it was just done. Instead, I woke up in some cabin miles away, with a gash in my neck and my veins lit in the coldest fire I’ve ever felt.”

Meekly, William mumbled, “So, you became…”

“A vampire.” Sisky pushed his glass toward William. “You honestly need this more than me, you’re a wreck. Drink up.”

William tentatively took a sip, which turned into a longer gulp.

“It was some wrinkled, mangey man named Ludovic or something who turned me. He thought he was the last of his kind, felt obligated to pass it onto some poor soul like me. He told me a lot of interesting stories, but to summarize, he was a German peasant who lived through the Black Plague. By the time he was turned, the result of some alchemical experiment of his gone wrong, his health had completely deteriorated, so he had barely any teeth, his skin was practically parchment, his feet were swollen and grimey. He almost never cut his nails, and I don’t think he had shaved in decades. He forced me to… to…” Sisky’s normally tough demeanor faded. His bottom lip curled inward in disgust as his memories came to the surface, just as traumatic as the imprints the war had left. “...let’s just say I wasn’t allowed to leave for a while.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, by now I’ve mostly forgotten.” However, the memories were as clear as day. Sisky attempted to smile through it. “I killed the miserable bastard myself and then rejoined some troops and said it was an administrative error that I was presumed dead. When I came back from the war, my wife had left, my father had died in a factory fire and my mother of suicide upon finding out I was dead as well, and my friends were all probably dead in the war, too. I drifted around Chicago for a while, barely living, just killing and sleeping and working and drinking. And then Illinois ratified the Eighteenth Amendment and everyone needed giggle juice, and I knew where to get it. I started the Dandies, turned who was loyal to me and killed who wasn’t, and now we’re here. Now, any questions?”

William thought for a few seconds even though a question was already on his mind, and asked, “Are… are you going to kill me?”

“If I wanted to, I would have already.” Sisky smirked and stood up, leaning over William and reaching his hand up to his cheek. “But a gorgeous boy like you ought to be preserved.”

This caused William to shiver again, staring up at Sisky with his frightened doe eyes. “Are you… are you gonna make me a… _vampire?_ ”

“One day.” Sisky whispered, bringing his hand through William’s hair and pushing it back to reveal his bare neck. “Not today. Not until I think you are ready. But in the meantime…” He snaked his other hand around William’s waist, pulling him up to stand in close vicinity, chest pressed each other. He lowered his lips to his neck. “I’m thirsty.”

William’s breaths were quick and heavy, and he was still shaking in Sisky’s arms. “I… I don’t know…”

“It won’t kill you. I can control myself these days.” The last line, rather than a reaffirmation of confidence, sounded like a wish. “You might not think you want it, Bilvy, but you will as soon as you feel it.”

William opened his mouth to protest, but he was quickly silenced by Sisky’s lips pressing a kiss to his unmarred flesh. Underneath his lips, the warmth of William’s veins radiated off of him. Sisky experimentally licked at his smooth skin, and William found himself moaning, “Oh, Sisky, bite me!”

Sisky bit into his neck, blood gushing out from the broken skin and onto his tongue. William cried out, first in agony at feeling the sting, then moaning even more so as Sisky began to drink. William’s shaking ceased, as he was lost in the feeling, and his arms that had been just hanging at his sides reached into Sisky’s hair, tugging him closer and imploring his fangs to dig deeper.

Finally, Sisky resurfaced and took himself away from William’s neck, his lips and chin dripping with blood and his eyes blown hungrily. He studied William’s face for a moment, gaze settling on his parted lips, and then he kissed him. William could taste the alcohol and bitter iron on his lips.

Later that night, they fucked, of course.

It was a month later, and William spent nearly every night at Sisky’s or the Dandies’ new speakeasy. He’d come home drunk and dizzy, still euphoric in the early morning while the sun was still barely peeking past the horizon, his neck and arms covered in bites, bruises, and dried blood left like kisses of lipstick. His hair was always tangled from Sisky’s grasp, the buttons of his shirt in the wrong slits from being hurriedly put-on.

William would scamper into his bedroom, always an hour before his father would have to wake for work, and put on one of his French records to lull him to sleep. Nobody could catch him in his freshly-sinful state when he slept through the entire day, which he could do because he dropped out of university, claiming that the permanent job he’d been offered was simply too good to pass up.

Until, of course, he came home one night and his parents were sitting on the porch waiting for him. His mother had gasped, far too overdramatically in William’s opinion, and asked him what in heaven’s name he had been doing.

“Being a faggot!” The words tumbled off William’s alcohol-scented breath. He started to giggle. “I’m a homosexual! I’m a fucking _sinner!_ ” And then he unceremoniously threw up on the porch.

When he’d finished throwing up, that was when they dragged him inside before the neighbors could see anything and sat him down in the kitchen. It was mostly his father asking the questions, yelling and screaming at him for making his poor fragile mother _cry like that,_ the kind of tone he’d probably used when he tortured Hungarian soldiers in the war for shits and giggles. It more than sobered William.

And then his father punched him when he dared to stand up, knocking him to the ground.

“I’ll stop!” William had begun to sob, curled up in a ball on the floor and holding where his jaw had slammed against the floor. A bruise would form there later. “I won’t drink again, I swear! I’ll quit my job! I’ll go back to university!”

He didn’t believe him.

They were sending him to an asylum.

William didn’t want to go to an asylum.

He sprang off the floor and to the telephone in the hallway. His father raced after him, but he couldn’t get there fast enough since his leg hadn’t been the same since the war.

William dialed Sisky’s number, waiting impatiently and fidgeting as it rang. As soon as he heard Sisky’s voice begin to say hello, William screamed, “Sisky, it’s Bill! They’re going to take me to an asylum! _Please,_ you gotta help me--”

The phone was ripped out of William’s hand.

_Sisky will come,_ William kept thinking as he was rigged with wires, _Sisky loves me. He has to come._

The first electric shock made William scream with all he had. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt before. Worse than when Sisky had bitten him, worse than when his father had punched him to the floor, worse than when the doctors had jabbed him with blunt needles of sedative when he’d first arrived and almost managed to struggle out of the restraints put on him.

_Sisky will come._

“How are you today, Mr. Beckett?”

William knew if he answered wrong he’d get more shocks. “Fine.” He mumbled, even though he was still longing for Sisky.

“Have you had any homosexual desires since your therapy yesterday?”

William croaked out, “No.”

They shocked him later anyway. He still believed Sisky would come. He kept screaming for him as the currents ran through his body, making wrists limbs thrash in the restraints. _Sisky, Sisky, Sisky._ That was all he thought about these days.

His younger sister, Courtney, sent him a letter. His parents never did. It might as well have been just a blank sheet of paper. Something about the usual pleasantries seemed out-of-place when William was twitching from lack of sleep and refusing to speak to anyone.

William didn’t want to write back, but they forced him to. It went something like, _Dear Courtney, I’m glad you’re doing well. I’m doing great as well. Love, William._ It would have been longer, but the nurse crossed out most of it.

Weeks passed by and he stopped keeping track of the days. William stopped believing in everything. He didn’t believe in G-d, medicine, or Sisky, among other things. Maybe vampires weren’t real. Maybe William wasn’t in love.

But if vampires were real and William was in love, hypothetically speaking, he’d want Sisky to turn him. He had nothing left to live for but the thought of how nice it would be to kill those damn doctors himself. Oh, how nice to feel their hot blood dripping through his fingers.

He could only dream of it. Which he did, every single night.

He was finally woken up in the middle of the night by lips brushing against his ear, whispering, “ _Bilvy._ ”

William woke up with a start and saw Sisky kneeling at his cot. Immediately, William shot up and started crying, “Sisky! Sisky! I knew you’d come!”

Sisky hugged him for a good long while, whispering to him reassuringly, “I’m here, it’s alright now. I love you, you know I’d never abandon you.”

When William’s sobbing subsided, Sisky pulled back and observed him. He’d lost weight and his cheeks were sunken. His gaunt figure was covered by the baggy stained pajamas he wore, and his hair was knotted and greasy from not having been brushed or washed in days. There was nothing but emptiness in his eyes.

“How long has it been?” William mumbled.

Months. “A few weeks. I’m so sorry, I’ve been searching for you every waking hour! I came as soon as I found out where you were. Nobody can hurt you again, I’ll protect you forever, okay?”

William blinked and nodded slowly. “Je t’aime.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Let’s go.” Sisky held out his hand for William, but he shook his head. “What?”

“I want to kill them. The doctors.”

Sisky smiled and took a loaded gun from inside his coat, then placed it in William’s lap. The gun was still warm from recent use. In his ear, he whispered, “Go ahead.”

“And I decided I want you to turn me.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s all I could think about since I’ve been here.” William picked up the gun. It had been a long time since he’d held one, but he knew his aim was still good if it meant killing the bastards who’d made his life wires and straight-jackets and linoleum floors. “I don’t want to be weak anymore.”

Shots rang out in the hallways of the asylum. Blood pooled on the floor into an expanding puddle while each doctor and nurse dropped lifeless, to their knees and their bodies shaking with every extra shot until they keeled over. It was a beautiful sight; one that William would remember forever.

And for the first time in months, William laughed. He kept pulling the trigger, each splatter of blood filling him with glee. Sisky stood behind while William was shooting them, arms crossed and smiling in approval. In a way, he was in love with the way William stood, tall, covered in blood, and victorious as he stood over the dying doctors.

When William was done firing bullets into their bodies, he kicked over one of the bodies of one of the nurses and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up so he could lick a stripe through the blood coating her face. Then he spit the blood back at her face and dropped her body. He started kicking another body around, enjoying the way the doctor’s body left red streaks across the ground and how his blood-coated wire-rim glasses scratched against the tile floor.

“They look so pretty like this, don’t they?” William asked. He was pushing his foot against one of the doctor’s bullet wounds, listening to the squelch of organs as blood poured out. “They were so ugly before. I’m doing them all a favor.”

“You’re right.” Sisky agreed. As William turned around and met his eyes, he added, “You’ve quite changed, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have.” William dropped the gun to the floor and took a step towards Sisky. “Pour vous.” He took another step, and before kissing him with his blood-stained lips, he murmured, “I’d do anything for you. I knew you’d come.”

They celebrated William’s return the only way they knew how; drinking. Until the early hours of morning, they partied, and when it was all over Sisky and William retreated to the master bedroom. The both of them were completely drunk while they initiated the turning process, William just giggling while Sisky pushed him to the bed and bit into his neck to drain him of his blood. It didn’t feel very serious or life-changing to William at all in his intoxicated state, just something long overdue.

As William weakened and grew suddenly tired from the blood loss, he mumbled, “Do I taste good?”

“Of course you do, sweetheart. I’ll miss your blood.” Sisky pulled himself away from William’s neck and raised his wrist to his bloody lips, which he bit down on and then lowered to William’s lips. “Drink from me.”

William experimentally licked the blood running off Sisky’s wrist, and as soon as the taste hit, he grabbed at his arm to push it closer and suck on it. He kept gulping down the sweet blood, absent of any iron flavor that would normally repel him. It was just as warm as alcohol going down his throat and settling in his stomach, both a comforting and exhilarating feeling.

When Sisky ripped his arm away from William’s mouth, saying that was enough, William whined and grappled for it. “No, I want _more!_ You’re so mean! I need it!”

“I let you have more than I usually give. You’ll be fine, you’ll be a vampire in a few days.”

William frowned. “Please?”

“Just wait until you taste _human_ blood.” Sisky laid down next to William. “I’ll be nothing in comparison.”

“I suppose so.” William said. Without missing a beat, he asked, “So, we’re going to be together forever now, right?

“That is what being a vampire entails.”

“Good.” William snuggled into Sisky’s shoulder, licking the blood off his lips. “I missed you. Did I tell you that?”

“I think you did, but I missed you, too.”

“And I don’t want us to _ever_ be apart. You’re not allowed to die or disappear or anything. I could never fall in love with anyone but you.”

“Eternity tends to change things.”

“No, it doesn’t, silly.” William giggled drunkenly. He reached out for Sisky’s hand and entangled his fingers with his. “We’ll always be together. Always be Dandies. Right?”

“Right.”

For a few years, the Dandies prospered. Business grew. William killed his own parents and hung them from the roof of his childhood house. The stock market crashed, but desperate people always needed alcohol and so the Dandies were mostly unaffected. Although Prohibition eventually ended and the demand for illegally-sourced liquor died out, Sisky had enough money saved for them to not have to worry about business. In their newly-freed time, instead they tormented and turned and killed innocent pedestrians for fun. Murder kept them occupied for decades.

And so, William thought that him and Sisky would really and truly be together forever. There were no obstacles in their path.

Then the year of 2003 happened, which left only William Beckett and Mike Carden alive in the aftermath.


	2. Las Vegas, 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Las Vegas, 2004: Brendon, Ryan, Spencer, and Jon are directionless high school graduates whose band isn't taking off when they're invited to a party held by a charismatic college student named William Beckett. However, Ryan has his suspicions about William.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's how Brendon and Ryan got into vampire stuff! I'm not sure when Pete's part will be posted but considering I'm stuck at home I doubt it'll take long. This one is probably about as bloody as the last part, so I guess be prepared for that.

**Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross**

_And isn't this exactly where you'd like me_  
_I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know_  
_Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety_

_-But It’s Better If You Do by Panic! At The Disco_

**Las Vegas, 2004**

“You guys hear the government finally confirmed vampires are real?”

“You’ve told us, like, two times already, Spence. The shock’s worn off.” Brendon held the lighter up to his blunt, waited a second for it to catch the flame, and sucked in a breath of smoke.

“I just had to make sure you guys knew. It’s fucking crazy.”

“We know. It’s all anyone can fucking talk about.” Ryan sighed. He was lying upside-down on the couch right next to Brendon. They’d all practically been living at Spencer’s house since graduating high school. Brendon’s parents were strict Mormons and Ryan’s father was an alcoholic, so neither of them had any desire to be at home. Instead of getting a job or signing up for a class at a community college or anything that would be considered “productive”, they instead smoked weed and worked on their band, Panic! At The Disco, which Ryan swore would take off soon. Thus far though, it really hadn’t, so they kept making Spencer’s living room smell like weed as per usual.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if that was the reason Brent went missing?”

“Not really.” Brendon said. “I don’t get your obsession with this. Vampires are real, so what? We’ve all suspected it for years. They haven’t even reached Nevada yet, so it’s not like that’d be why Brent went missing.”

“I mean, they _could_ have reached Nevada by now. It’s not that unlikely. Those things breed like rabbits.”

“Can’t you talk about anything else?” Ryan asked.

“Sure. How’s messaging random celebrities on MySpace bashing their music and expecting them to listen to our shitty demos working out for you?”

“They’re not _shitty._ ”

“They are. That’s why we’re not taking off, we need more blood and gore in our songs, not your weird poetic burlesque shit.”

“We’ll take off.” Brendon insisted. He handed his blunt to Ryan. “We will.”

“I’m starting to feel like we won’t.” Spencer said. With a sigh, he stood up from the couch to get a can of soda from the kitchen. “It’s just… there’s like, gotta be more to life than just sitting around and waiting to get famous, right?”

“Like _what?_ ”

“Don’t ask me.”

By the time a week had passed by, Brendon had been kicked out of his parents’ house and they’d found a new guitarist for the band, Jon Walker, so they all took to staying at Spencer’s house even more frequently than before. Whether they were more productive was debatable. 

They were _trying_ to make more music, especially now that they couldn’t use the excuse that they still needed another guitarist, but today Ryan had looked at Brendon perhaps a little too seductively. So now Ryan and Brendon were trying to hook-up in Spencer’s closet in what little space there was between boxes of old clothes, Ryan’s fingers tugging at the belt-loops of Brendon’s jeans as he kissed down his neck.

They didn’t get very far before Spencer opened the door. Jon was standing behind him awkwardly, hoping this wasn’t usually how their band practices went.

“So _that’s_ where you guys went.” Spencer frowned, opening the closet door wider for them to step out. “You guys can’t just taint my closet every time you feel horny.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry, Spence.”

“I wasn’t really feeling up to band practice tonight, either.” Spencer said. “But there’s better things to do than hooking up in my closet.”

“Not really.”

“Okay, but what about… going to one of William Beckett’s parties?”

They stood there, confused as to who exactly this William Beckett was, until Ryan said, “Never heard of him.”

“You guys have _never_ heard of him? He’s, like, this college guy and everyone talks about his parties.” Spencer turned around to point to Jon to back him up. “Jon said he knows him, right, dude?”

“I’ve only met him once.” Jon clarified. “I mean, he is nice and all, but it was only for a second. I don’t know anything about the guy or his parties. This is the first time I’ve been invited to one.”

“I guess it sounds like it could be fun.” Brendon said.

Ryan narrowed his eyebrows at them, still doubtful. “I’m not sure. We barely know this William guy. I have a bad feeling. I think we should just stay in and work on music.”

“Stay in and fuck Brendon, you mean. Besides, I told you, Jon knows him and he’s nice. If you’re so worried about it, you can be the designated driver.” Spencer suggested, although Ryan sighed heavily at that. “Everyone in favor of going to the party, raise your hand.”

Spencer, Brendon, and Jon all raised their hands. They all stared at Ryan, urging him to raise his hand. “Come _on,_ Ryan.” Brendon pleaded, “It’ll be _fun!_ ”

Ryan hesitated and slowly raised his hand, which made Brendon and Spencer’s faces light up in delight. “Fine. I’ll be the designated driver. But if I get drugged by this William bitch or anyone there, it’s all of your faults.”

“I think that guy keeps looking at me.” Brendon said, turning back at his band.

“Then stop looking at him.” Ryan suggested, although it came off more apprehensive than he thought it would. He was not jealous of that skinny twink with long brown hair, sitting over there on the kitchen island with all those girls and guys surrounding him like he was the absolute _shit._

Jon looked over at the man in question. “That’s William.”

“ _No way._ ” An incredulous smile appeared on Ryan’s face. “He’s--”

“He’s cute.” Brendon interrupted.

Annoyed, Ryan remarked, “That’s _one_ way of putting it.”

“Don’t worry, Ry, he barely holds a candle to you.”

However, Brendon’s reassurance fell flat when he glanced over at William yet again and made eye contact with him for probably the tenth time that night. For a moment, as Ryan watched him gaze at Brendon, he saw William’s eyes snap over to him for a moment while he took a long, sultry sip of the wine glass he held. Ryan stared back for a second and then quickly looked down at his shoes, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell whether he was envious or intimidated by him.

“Isn’t he hot?” Spencer said. Brendon wasn’t the only one admiring him that night.

“Hardly.” Ryan snickered. “He’s drinking out of a wine glass at a college party. He seems kind of cocky, actually.”

“Or you just don’t want to admit he’s cute.” Brendon teased. “You can say it, Ryan.”

“I do _not_ think he’s cute. Why the hell do you all think he’s cute? He looks like an anorexic who needs to cut his hair.”

“You can’t just say that about people, Ry.”

“Well, it’s true. I am the only sober one, after all. Can we please talk about something else now? I--”

Someone tapped on Brendon’s shoulder. “Yo, William wants to talk to you.”

Brendon spun around, far too elated for Ryan’s taste. “Really?” He glanced at William, who had his head tilted as his smirk beckoned him to come closer. Awe-struck, Brendon replied, “Awesome.” without breaking eye-contact with William.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ryan hissed under his breath as Brendon left the group. A little louder and much more cynically, he repeated, “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

Spencer sipped from his red plastic cup. “Oh, come on. It’s not like Brendon’s going to cheat on you with him. Stop being such a baby about this.”

“I’m not being a baby about this! I’m Brendon’s boyfriend, I have a right to be worried.”

“You don’t even know whether he’s gay or not.”

“He is.” Jon confirmed, not very invested in what the conversation was actually about.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were looking at me.” William said with a smirk, getting straight to the point once Brendon approached. “What’s your name, _mon chéri?_ ”

“Brendon.” He said.

“What a lovely name.” William slid off the kitchen island so he could stand face-to-face with him, studying Brendon’s face for a few moments before looking back at his eyes. He licked his lips as he gazed at him. “Why were you looking at me? Not that I mind… but I’m curious.”

“You… I… I don’t know. You just seem cool?”

William chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it. How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, it’s fun.” Brendon couldn’t tell why he was suddenly so nervous, being confronted by William. “Really fun.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” William held up his wine glass, offering it out to Brendon. “Here, have some.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t…”

William took a sip from the wine glass. “See? It’s fine. Have some. You’re not drunk enough, you seem a little… nervous.”

Brendon obliged and took the wine glass, hesitating for a second before he drank a tiny amount from it.

“No, drink it all.” William insisted. “There’s more where that came from, don’t be shy.”

Brendon downed the rest of the alcohol in the glass and set it down on the kitchen island with a _clank._

“Good.” William purred, leaning closer. “Brendon, I must say, you intrigue me.”

“Uh… thank you?”

“Let’s go somewhere more private to chat.”

“Oh, I… I have a boyfriend.”

“Him?” William asked, pointing to Ryan across the room. Ryan wasn’t really paying attention to Brendon and William at the moment, although he was sneaking glances every now and then. “He’s quite cute. What’s his name?”

“Ryan.”

“Hm.” William hummed thoughtfully. “I like him as well.” He turned back to Brendon. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to make any advances on you. I just want to get to know you better where it’s quieter. I just moved here with my friend, so it’s been quite lonely lately.”

“Oh, yeah sure. We can totally go somewhere else to talk.”

“Good.” William smiled satisfactorily. “Follow me.” He snatched Brendon by his wrist and pulled him away from the kitchen into the dim hallway, where the music and chatter was faint. “So, Brendon, how old are you?”

“I’m…” Brendon almost said eighteen, but he wasn’t sure whether William would get mad that he was under the legal drinking age. “Twenty-one.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am!”

“I don’t care if you’re under the drinking age. I personally think it’s a ridiculous law.”

“Okay, _fine,_ I’m eighteen.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard.” William leaned against the wall. “So, then, you’re going to college next year?”

“Not really.” Brendon admitted. “I’m taking a year off to work on my band.”

“What kind of music do you play?”

“I… I guess it’s alternative?”

“Intéressant.” William said. He hardly cared, but Brendon was too nervous to notice. “Are you making anything off of it yet?”

“A decent amount.” In reality, they were struggling to book gigs, and when they did, their cut of profit was blown on gas, weed, and new guitar strings.

“Are you still living with your parents, then?” William was aiming to lure him into the idea of moving in with him as a roommate, but he struck an even _better_ nerve with that question.

“Y--well, not really right now. It’s complicated.”

“Is it something you’d like to discuss?”

“I mean… yeah, I guess, if you really don’t have a problem with it.” Brendon inhaled deeply. “Uh, my parents kicked me out this week. They’re Mormons, so they really don’t like that I’m gay and don’t believe in the church anymore. But I don’t know, maybe they’ll let me come back eventually… it’s only been a few days, after all.”

“My parents did something similar.” William confided. “They were also pretty religious, so they sent me away.”

“Oh, fuck, they sent you to a _conversion camp?_ ”

“Yeah, something like that.” William leaned in closer, his eyes flickering to the ground and then back up at Brendon. “I know how it feels.”

Brendon, being drunk, got emotional about the ordeal quite quickly even though he thought he’d already cried the last of his feelings out. Tears gathered in his eyes, and all of a sudden he was hugging William, who he had only met a few minutes ago, while sobbing. “I… I just wish they could accept me for who I am, you know?”

William nodded, holding him tight in his arms and rubbing his back.

“He’s just so fucking cool, you know?” Brendon slurred, leaning forward from the back seat as Ryan drove them all home. “Like, he just _gets_ it, you know? Like, he understands when your parents don’t accept you being gay. He’s just so fucking easy to talk to! And he’s, like, super cool about everything.”

Ryan just nodded, readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, and kept on driving, so Spencer said, “Come on, Ry, lighten up. Admit it, you just have a crush on William and you’re jealous Brendon got to talk to him.”

“I don’t have a crush on him!” Ryan insisted. “Look, maybe I’d be more fine with this if he didn’t just take off with you all of a sudden. I think it’s suspicious. Besides, all of you are drunk and so was he. He’s probably way different sober. I don’t see why all of you are raving about this random bitch. All he did was throw a normal party and let Brendon cry in his arms and suddenly you guys are _all_ over him.”

“There’s just something about him…”

“There is _nothing_ about him that’s likeable. I just have a bad feeling about him, okay? He’s either trying to get in your pants or sell your kidneys.”

“I’d let him sell all of my kidneys.” Jon mumbled.

Ryan only rolled his eyes. It was finally silent for a few seconds until Brendon said, “I got his number. He said he’ll text me next time he has a party. And then you can meet him and see how cool he is before we get drunk!”

“I wouldn’t go. All he wants is to get in your pants, Brendon, can’t you see that? How many years older is he than us, anyway, huh?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jon, do you know?”

“No.”

“Spencer?”

“Nah.”

“You don’t even know how old he is and you’re already inundated by the thought of him. Do you even _know_ anything about him?”

“I do!” Brendon said defensively. “I know he just moved here with his friend!”

“From where?” Ryan snarkily asked. He waited for his answer for a few extremely quiet seconds, and then asked again, “From where did he move, Brendon? What’s his last name? What does he do for a living? What are his hobbies?”

“Shit, Ryan, maybe I don’t know because I was too busy crying because my parents just kicked me out!”

“Well, maybe you _should_ know those things before you trust him enough to sob to him! He could have taken advantage of you!”

“I’m drunk!”

Ryan pulled into Spencer’s driveway and parked the car. “Exactly, you’re not thinking clearly!”

“Guys, just shut up!” Spencer interrupted. “Being kicked out is hard, cut Brendon some slack.” Then he and Jon got out of the car, leaving Brendon and Ryan alone inside.

Brendon opened his mouth to say something, but Ryan cut him off with, “I wish you could have cried to _me,_ your boyfriend, instead of some stranger you don’t know!” while he seized his keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, closing the door with a slam.

It was only a matter of days before Brendon practically jumped in his seat on the couch while they were all in the middle of writing lyrics, announcing, “He just texted me!”

“Who?”

“William!” Brendon’s excitedly jabbed at the keypad of his phone to open the message and then said, “He’s inviting us to another party! Tonight!”

“Huh?” Ryan leaned over the guitar he had in his lap to read the text. “Tonight? I thought we said we’d go see a movie tonight.”

“You’re not seriously still suspicious of him, are you?” By then, Jon had caught the William Beckett fever as well from Brendon and Spencer.

“I just don’t have a good feeling about him.” Ryan plucked at a string on his guitar. “Look, if you guys want to go, go ahead. I can’t stop you. I’ll just go home and write.”

“You really would rather be at _home_ than at a party?” Spencer asked, concerned and leaning over the coffee table that separated the opposite-facing couches they sat on. “Even if you’re right and William turns out to be shady, we’ll leave right away and never talk about him again. There’s more safety in numbers, right?”

Ryan considered it, plucking another string on his guitar. “I… I guess you’re right. As long as we all stay together, I’ll go. But under no circumstances, you _can’t_ randomly just leave with him again.”

“I promise I won’t.” Brendon swore, slowly taking Ryan’s hand off where it was positioned over the guitar strings to hold it. “I absolutely promise.”

“Come on, Ry, he’s nice, just say hi to him!”

“No, I don’t need to--” But then Ryan let Brendon drag him over, much to his own displeasure, and all of a sudden he was face-to-face with William and being judged by his wandering eyes.

“Hey, William, this is my boyfriend, Ryan! Ryan, this is William.”

William extended a hand out toward Ryan. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Uh… same.” Ryan reached for his hand, expecting to shake it, but instead William took his hand and kissed it. Ryan had to hold back a shudder at feeling his cold lips. “Oh… thanks?” William lingered, glancing up from Ryan’s hand and giving him a smirk before he slowly let go. Ryan looked over to Brendon for guidance, seeing as how that would be considered a strange interaction at a college party in the twenty-first century, but Brendon was completely unphased by it and shrugged at Ryan’s confusion.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself tonight.” William commented, although he was barely meeting Ryan’s eyes as he studied every inch of the boy’s body. His eyesight landed on his neck, admiring it for a second before he finally looked back up at Ryan’s face.

“Y...yeah.” He’d noticed the way William’s vision had practically _prowled_ across his body unsettlingly. Shaken, Ryan took a step back. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I should...um… I have to use the bathroom. See ‘ya.”

Brendon watched as Ryan fled in search of the bathroom, and he turned back to William with a sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t think he’d be so… uncomfortable?”

“Oh, it’s quite alright.” William dismissed, barely bothered by Ryan’s reaction. “I’ll try talking to him later. Would you like me to get you a drink?”

Ryan was _scared._ He didn’t know what exactly it was about William, but whatever it was, he was scared as hell of him. Ryan was staring into the bathroom mirror at his reflection, cupping his hands under the running faucet and splashing water onto his face. He _knew_ it was a bad idea to come. Maybe it was slightly better than the alternative of going home, but he’d never admit that to himself when he had just been subjected to William’s chilling gaze.

“I’m just going to hang around Spencer and Jon for the rest of the night.” Ryan swore to himself in the mirror, splashing more water onto his already-damp face. “I’m just going to stay the hell away from him and make sure we leave the party early and that I don’t get drunk. I can do this. I can fucking do this. And I’ll never let myself come here again.”

He finally turned off the faucet and dried his hands on the frayed hand-towel, taking care to avoid the area with a faint red stain, and opened the bathroom door into the hall. As soon as he turned in the direction of the living room, Ryan was startled and jumped back at seeing William had been leaning against the wall and waiting outside of the bathroom. “Crap!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” William apologized. The softness of his voice felt genuine, but Ryan tried to ignore it, reminding himself of the fear William had just instilled in him.

“No, uh, it’s fine.” Ryan lowered his hands from his chest.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

The terror in the pit of Ryan’s stomach returned. He could barely respond, just choking out, “Oh?” 

“I’m sorry if I gave off the wrong impression earlier. I guess we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Hi, I’m William.” This time, he actually kept eye-contact with him. “It’s nice to meet you. And you are?”

“I’m Ryan.” His voice still had a slight tremor to it. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” William abruptly commented. He stepped away from the wall and toward Ryan. The hallway was narrow, which didn’t leave any space for Ryan to step back. “Look, I only want to be friends. Please, what did I do wrong? Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?”

“Nothing. I… I just…”

“Ryan, please, tell me.” He begged. “I know I’m not the best at social interactions, but I’m trying to improve myself. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.”

“Well…” The words caught on Ryan’s tongue before he wrestled them out. “I… you’re just… I don’t think it’s anything with you personally, per say, but I noticed you kinda just looking at my body and the way you kissed my hand-- it just gave me the wrong impression.”

William nodded thoughtfully. “I see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come across that way. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“I don’t know… not really.” The tension in Ryan’s posture began to melt and he leaned against the wall behind him. “Maybe the problem’s been with me the whole time. I shouldn’t have assumed shit before I actually met you. Maybe you’re not _that_ bad.”

“It’s alright, I understand.”

“Thanks. I just… I have trust issues.” Ryan found himself opening up. Although everything in him screamed not to, there was a change in William’s demeanor that made his presence suddenly feel soothing, a _yearn_ to grow closer to him. “My dad’s an alcoholic. So.. it’s pretty rough, I guess. He really couldn’t give much of a shit about me. I’d do _anything_ to get outta that fucking nightmare of a house.”

William nodded again in understanding. “I’m sorry. I was in a similar situation, once. Although my father wasn’t an alcoholic, the war… it just changed him. He wasn’t great, either. I can see where you’re coming from.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine.”

A gentle, sheepish smile appeared on Ryan’s face. “Thanks for understanding.”

William returned a charming smile, which looking back on it, was more of a nefarious smirk that things were finally going the way he wanted. “Anytime.”

“You were right!” Ryan told Brendon with a laugh as they stumbled out to the car. This time Spencer was the designated driver, so after Ryan had finished his conversation with William wherein he also got his number, he’d gotten completely drunk. “He’s like, so nice and cool and shit!”

“I told you, dude!” Brendon said. His eyes were shining, overflowing with admiration and intoxication. “I knew you’d come around to him. He’s just… he’s _William_ fucking _Beckett._ He just… he just understands.”

Ryan woke up with a throbbing headache and a text from William himself, asking him, **come over 2nite? :)**

Even though he was now sober and had much more logic, Ryan grinned reading the text and responded, **ill b there @ 6**

“Brendon told me you guys are in a band.” William mentioned to start off the conversation once they’d sat down. “How’s that going?”

“Oh, it’s alright.” Ryan shrugged casually. “I guess we’re kind of a mess right now, but I’m sure most bands started off that way.”

“Do you think the band will ever take off?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan admitted. He didn’t notice William move closer to him on the couch as he stared up at the ceiling. “Spencer doesn’t think so, he thinks we should be doing everything his way. But this kind of thing could take years.”

“But do _you_ think your band will take off?”

Ryan looked down from the ceiling and at William, whose eye-contact with him was eerily unmoving. “I… it’s really too early to say for sure, but it doesn’t feel like it. Like everything we’re doing is just a waste of time. We’re trying to share our art and passion and shit with the world and... nobody but us cares.”

“Hm.” That was all William said. He inched closer to Ryan until there were only centimeters between them. “You know, you could be a model if you wanted to. That’d be a far better use of your energy.”

“Oh… thank you?” Ryan had the sudden feeling that maybe coming here was a mistake, but he didn’t want to prove himself wrong when he’d just changed his mind.

“Maybe it _is_ a waste of your time.” William suggested. He stood up and then straddled Ryan’s lap, tracing his arms until he reached his hands that he pinned against the couch. “Maybe you should stay here with me.”

Ryan had no chance to say anything, because all of a sudden, William was _kissing_ him. _Kissing_ him. Oh fuck, and now he was _kissing him back,_ and now Ryan was technically cheating on Brendon and he should have tried to stop him and--

His train of thought stopped there as William pulled himself away from Ryan, spit dripping off his lips, and giggled, “You look so scared. Rightfully so. But you don’t have to worry. I’ll take good care of you,” He leaned in and whispered against his lips, “Won’t I?”

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Rage overcame Ryan and he tried to pry himself out of William’s grasp. “I have a fucking boyfriend! Get the hell off me, you damn--”

“Go ahead. Try to escape.” Suddenly, William disappeared off of Ryan’s lap and was nowhere to be found. Ryan didn’t have time to decipher what the hell was going on; he leaped off the couch and ran for the door, but then William’s hands snatched his hips from behind and yanked him close to him again. “You can’t get away from me. You’re _mine._ ”

“I… I…” Ryan pitifully tried to say something, anything, but he hardly could.

William spun him around to face him and then pushed Ryan up against the kitchen island, leaning into him. “You’re silly if you think you’ll _ever_ run from me. I see what I want and I fucking _take_ it.” He slammed Ryan against the counter again. “Nobody’s getting away from me after Sisky left me,” Ryan was slammed into the counter once more. “ _Nobody!_ ”

William swiftly bit into Ryan’s neck and began to gulp down his blood hungrily. At first, Ryan screamed and flailed, but as he started to weaken, something about it was actually pleasurable. The scream on Ryan’s lips died and was soon replaced with a moan. He felt ridiculous, suddenly craving William when he felt the impending doom of death upon him, but he really couldn’t control himself when it was added to by William grinding against him as he drank.

“Ah, fuck.” William pulled away from Ryan’s neck, licking the blood off his lips. “You taste so good. I suppose I should have kept you around before turning you, but this is just as good,” He leaned into Ryan’s face. “To see you so _weak_ like this. I could do anything to you right now, couldn’t I?” He snapped his hips into Ryan, causing a whine from him. “You _really_ like this, don’t you? You think it’s fucking hot I’m practically killing you?”

“No…” However, Ryan proved himself wrong when he moaned again. It felt like betrayal.

“I guess Brendon just doesn’t know what you _really_ like.” William raised his own wrist to his mouth and bit down hard, causing blood to trickle off the side of his arm. He then offered his wrist to Ryan, dangling it in front of his lips. “Drink.”

“... the hell?” Ryan mumbled in confusion, but then William pressed his wrist against Ryan’s lips, shutting him up.

“Drink.” William ordered again, pushing his wrist into his mouth with enough pressure so that he parted his lips.

Ryan was completely unaware of what was going on, but he knew that there had to be some evil reason William wanted him to drink his blood, so he kept his teeth gritted against each other tight as William kept pushing his wrist at him.

“Stubborn, _hm?_ ” William sighed. With his free hand, he reached underneath Ryan’s shirt and harshly twisted his nipple, causing Ryan to emit a choked gasp and to finally open up enough for William’s wrist. The blood fell onto his tongue and the taste suddenly had Ryan craving more. He gulped down William’s sweet blood with a sudden need that overcame him. His desperation caused the corner of William’s mouth to turn up, knowing that now he had Ryan’s dependence. “Good.”

“So… what _are_ you?” Ryan asked, catching his breath as they laid naked on the wrinkled and bloody sheets of William’s bed.

“A vampire.”

“Oh.” Ryan was unusually silent, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’ll start turning in a few days.” William thought he might as well answer any questions he’d have later now. “You’ll get a fever, then you get really thirsty and then you feel like you’re on fire but in a cold sort of way. It’s the worst pain you’ll ever feel, but once it’s over, you’ll be a vampire. I’m confident you’ll love it. Everyone does.”

“Oh.”

William turned off his back onto his side and started carding his fingers through Ryan’s hair. “Are you alright?”

Ryan was clearly not alright with _any_ part of this, but he could hardly turn back now. “Will I ever get to see my friends again? You know, Brendon, Spencer, I guess even Jon…”

“Oh, you haven’t got to worry.” William beamed. “They’re next.”

“His dad said he hasn’t seen him in days.” Brendon said as he got back into Spencer’s car, his eyes welling up with tears. “I… I think he’s actually missing.”

“Oh, fuck, really?” Jon asked from the backseat. Brendon nodded in silence.

“I don’t know where else he could be. He’s always either here or with us at Spence’s. He’s not really friends with anyone else ‘sides us.”

They all sat in the car in silence for a few seconds, until Jon suggested, “What about William? Didn’t Ryan get his number?”

“I don’t know if he’d be there. They just met, and William’s been texting me completely normal. He has no idea Ryan’s gone.”

“Do you think…” Spencer slowly broached the idea, leaning against the steering wheel, “it could have been vampires?”

“Vampires?” Brendon demanded. “ _Vampires?_ Don’t fucking joke around about that shit at a time like this!”

“It’s a possibility! They are real now, after all. I mean, Brent went missing last month, and now Ryan’s--”

“There are _no_ vampires in Las Vegas!” Brendon chastised. He slammed his hand against the side of the car radio. “There’s no fucking vampires! How many damn times do I have to tell you they’re all in the Midwest? Ryan is missing, and you’re really going to fucking say it’s _vampires_ at a time like this?”

“Aren’t they getting closer, though?” Jon asked, one eye squinting. “It’s not that crazy of an idea. Bodies have started showing up in Arizona.”

“But what are the chances, even if there happens to be _one_ vampire around?” Brendon spun around to face Jon in the backseat. “You can’t seriously encourage Spencer’s shitty ideas right now--” At that moment, the ring of Brendon’s cellphone interrupted them and Brendon quickly reached into his pocket to answer, hoping it was Ryan. However, it was William calling. “Look, William, now really isn’t--”

“I heard about Ryan.” William said, cold and without emotion. “Pity. I may know something about it.”

Brendon gulped, exchanging glances with Spencer and Jon who were suspicious of the sudden drop in Brendon’s expression. “You do?”

“Do you hear that, Brendon?” William adjusted the phone away from his ear and held it out so Ryan’s distant screaming from another room could be heard. “That’s your boyfriend.”

Brendon’s face drained of color, his grip on his cellphone trembling.

“What?” Spencer pressed, concerned. “What is it?”

“Was that your friend Spencer?” William inquired. “Is he and Jon with you at the moment?”

“Why the hell do you wanna know?”

“If you want to see Ryan again, you, Spencer, and Jon will be at my door in a few minutes.” William stated, as if it was simply a fact he knew they’d be there. “If you call the police…” His voice became lower and had a more menacing tone to it as he said, “I’ll kill Ryan.”

“Wh...what are you doing?” Brendon cried out, but his plea was ignored.

“I await your arrival, _mon chéri._ The door will be unlocked.” And then William hung up.

Brendon dropped the cellphone into his lap, staring ahead blankly for a few seconds until he turned to Spencer and ordered, “William’s house, _now!_ ”

The urgency in his voice was unquestionable. Spencer quickly started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

Brendon slowly pushed open the door to William’s house, revealing the dark and empty living room. After looking around, he nodded to Spencer and Jon behind him, and they stepped inside. The house was completely silent except for the hum of the air conditioning unit in the window.

“Close the door.” From seemingly out of nowhere, William’s voice boomed out with an order, causing all of them to jump. “I said, _close the door._ ”

Jon obeyed since he was the closest to the door and shut it.

“Now lock it.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Spencer demanded.

“You’ll know as soon as you lock the damn door!”

Jon quickly locked the door as well because he was pretty fucking scared, causing Brendon and Spencer to sigh at him. “Jon, _really?_ ”

“Good.” William emerged from the darkness that had obscured him until now, his arms crossed. He wasn’t wearing his usual v-neck t-shirt and jeans; instead, he was dressed in a suit that looked like it belonged in the 20s. “I’m sure you all have questions.”

“No shit!” Brendon exclaimed. “Where the fuck is _Ryan?!_ ”

“He’s perfectly fine now.” William said. “He’s been waiting for you. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes! Wh--”

“Not so fast.” William chuckled. His fangs became visible, glinting in the moonlight that seeped in from between the curtains. “Beforehand, we have some business to take care of.”

Two more vampires ran out of the darkness and took hold of Spencer and Jon, restraining them by forcing their hands behind their backs. In alarm, Brendon spun around to see, but William grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him against him. They all screamed and flailed in the vampires’ grasp, but their struggling barely phased them. William just talked over their shrieks for help to give orders to the vampires he called Carden and… Ryan.

Jon was taken into the basement by Carden, Spencer into a bedroom by Ryan, and Brendon into the bathroom by William. Brendon was dumped out of William’s arms into the bathtub, and the ache of pain upon impact made him still enough for a moment.

“You’ll be last.” William told him, and then he walked out, locking the door behind him.

As soon as Brendon recovered from the fall, he ran to the door and shook it in his attempts to turn the doorknob, screaming, “No, wait, William, don’t leave me in here! Let me out! Help! Help!”

Once he heard the screams of agony coming from the basement from Jon, Brendon stopped and froze. The desperate wails felt prolonged, as if William didn’t mean to only kill them but also _torture_ them.

Brendon fervently searched the bathroom for anything that could help him escape, but it was oddly empty. He flung open the medicine cabinet and only found toothbrushes, a shaving razor, and a pair of scissors. The toothbrushes’ bristles were uneven from frequent use and the tips reddened. The drawers under the sink were empty except for a spare roll of toilet paper and shaving cream. In the bathtub, there wasn’t anything else that could be considered useful, only bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Brendon read the ingredients of the conditioner while he waited for Jon’s screams to die out.

It was even more chilling when it became completely silent; the possibility Jon could be dead haunted him.

Shortly after, there were footsteps in the hall and then Spencer’s screams began. They were closer and it was more difficult to be detached; Brendon armed himself with the pair of scissors in front of him, waiting and staring at the door in preparation for Spencer’s screams to stop and for William to come in for him next.

Spencer’s screams seemed to pass sooner. It was only a matter of time before Brendon heard the click of the key in the lock and the doorknob turn. His grip on the pair of scissors tightened, and as soon as the door opened Brendon ran at William with the pair of scissors, screaming and aiming for his eye.

William wasn’t taken aback. He kneed Brendon in his stomach before he could stab him, causing him to groan and drop to his knees.

“How… _cute._ ” William forced the pair of scissors out of Brendon’s hand. He grabbed Brendon by the collar of his shirt and held the pair of scissors in front of his eyes. He licked his blood-coated lips before having the dark idea to say, “If you wanted to play with these, Brendon, you could have just _asked._ ”

He threw Brendon back into the bathtub and got in after him, trapping him underneath him as he sat on his hips. With one arm, he held down Brendon by his throat and with the other played with the scissors in his fingers, snipping at the air tauntingly.

“Let me go!” Brendon screamed, his arms and legs thumping against the slippery sides of the tub and trying to push William off. “I’m too young to die! Let me go, let me go!”

“Too young to die?” William asked, cocking his head with contempt. He stopped snipping the scissors. “I was around your age when Sisky turned me.”

“Sisky _who?!_ ”

“The fucking love of my life, that’s who.” William said. “But he’s _gone_ now. Fucking gone. All because someone tipped off the fucking hunters. Carden and I barely escaped intact after I had to watch, trapped and helpless, my poor Sisky be slowly stabbed to death in a dismal basement. So I moved here, in search of someone who would be completely ignorant of my name and a vampire’s tactics,” He ran the blade of the scissors lightly against Brendon’s cheek, “Which would be you and your friends, of no fault of your own, to become Dandies. You should be honored, really, this is your opportunity to build up the Dandies to its former glory, to have your name remembered and _feared_ by all alongside mine. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Brendon laid stunned for a moment, and then growled, “Fuck. You.”

William shrugged. “Well, either way you don’t have a choice.” He grabbed Brendon’s wrist, which Brendon tried desperately to tug out of his strong grip, and stabbed it with the scissors. The blades pierced through Brendon’s skin and caused him to shriek. William stabbed his wrists with the scissors again, causing another burn of pain to course through him while William just sickeningly laughed. He raised Brendon’s wrist to his mouth and licked at the blood dripping from the wounds, savoring it and staring directly into Brendon’s eyes as he did so with a smile. Then he bit down, sinking his fangs in even deeper than the scissors had gone. The way Brendon cried out in terror was, in William’s eyes, absolutely _gorgeous._

William sucked at Brendon’s wrist for less than half a minute before he dropped it from his mouth and held up the scissors again, quickly stabbing and cutting through the flesh of the indent between Brendon’s shoulder and neck. In doing so, William punctured the carotid artery and caused blood to pool up quickly, all while Brendon was still bawling and writhing in pain. Once William saw the massive bleeding from his neck, he threw the scissors across the bathroom with a clatter and went for his neck, sucking at the incision before he bit down, dragging his fangs through his skin for even more blood.

As Brendon bled out, his struggling slowly grew weaker and he became silent. The back of his head thumped against the tub in defeat, accepting his fate.

“So well-behaved now.” William praised after he came up from his neck, blood dripping off of his lips and onto Brendon’s dazed face. He raised his own wrist to his mouth and bit down hard enough until he too was bleeding, then he shoved his wrist at Brendon’s lips. “Drink.”

Brendon drank. As soon as the beautiful taste hit his tongue, he reached up and clung to William’s arm needily as he sucked at the vampire’s blood. After allowing him to drink for a minute, William wrestled his arm away and let Brendon catch his breath and process everything that had just happened.

“Je t’aime.” William whispered, admiring Brendon’s blood-stained face as he leaned in. “I picked you for a reason, you know.” He kissed him, his hand creeping to the zipper of Brendon’s jeans.

It had been a month since Brendon, Ryan, Spencer, and Jon had been turned. They were about to embark on their journey to return to Chicago, which the Dandies would soon terrorize once again. Brendon, by far, was enjoying his newfound vampirism the most and was completely smitten with William, following every order and demand he could. In addition, to impress William he was trying to pick up French the fastest, as William had decided on a whim that would be the new language of the Dandies, for purposes of _sophistication_ or whatever stupid reason he came up with.

“You know he’s not actually in love with you.” Carden told Brendon, while they waited in the living room for everyone else to finish packing up what little they had. “I’ve known him for almost a century. You and Ryan are just another one of his flings.”

“That’s not true.” Brendon denied innocently.

“He’ll find someone else to intrigue him. Maybe not soon, but it will happen.” He advised, “He even got bored with Sisky sometimes.”

Brendon had a feeling perhaps he was right, but he shook his head. “Twenty bucks says he won’t.”

“I’m _not_ kidding.”

“I know. But let’s still bet on it.”

“Whatever.” Carden rolled his eyes. “Twenty bucks says he will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last bit was a bit of foreshadowing... I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my take on how William became a vampire, the next part of the prologue about P!ATD I'll post sometime next week!


End file.
